


Glimpsed in Silhouette

by Rubynye



Category: Captain America (Movies), Gangster Squad (2013)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Canon Character of Color, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in Two Holes, M/M, Multi, Nonmonogamous Relationship, Oral Sex, Pillow Talk, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, inspired by anthony mackie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4253862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam asks a question and Steve tells a story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glimpsed in Silhouette

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stoatsandwich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stoatsandwich/gifts), [potofsoup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/potofsoup/gifts), [dsudis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/gifts).



> This was written because Stoatsandwich [gave me the idea](http://stoatsandwich.tumblr.com/post/113178701149/intermission-at-the-ballet-in-many-cities-turned), and posted both late for [Polyshipping Day](http://polyshippingday.tumblr.com/post/122914414148/while-ive-seen-a-bit-of-activity-in-the-tag-and) and early for my half-birthday.
> 
> Title from "[An Affinity For Bats](http://www.versedaily.org/affinitybats.shtml)" once again.

The last response Sam expects from Steve is a big, full-throated belly laugh. He tips onto his side to better watch Steve at it, his eyes pressed shut, head thrown back, neck arched and throat bared; he makes a pretty sight like always, but eventually getting laughed at gets a a little old. "Okay, okay," Sam mutters as Steve wipes his streaming eyes and grins, eyebrows hoisted high. "I guess you've sucked that particular egg, Grandpa?"

Dropping his arm behind his head, Steve nods, eyes crinkle-cornered and twinkling. "Am I _ready_ ," he echoes mockingly, " 'for three in a bed?' " At least it's a little harder to see it when Sam's face burns. "Come _on_ , Wilson, that's the corniest thing I've heard since my bathhouse days."

All right, Sam deserves that some. He was trying to shock Captain America, he deserves his comeuppance from Steve Rogers. "Oh, and when was I gonna get this part of the briefing?" 

Steve smirks, pushing his knee between Sam's, leaning his side into Sam's chest. "When you earned the requisite clearance," he says, all sly cheer, and Sam wants to kiss him so badly he has to bite his tongue. 

After all, Sam wants to learn him even more. "Permission to ask, then?"

"Permission granted." Sam huffs at that and Steve glances gratifyingly downwards, then pulls the hand from behind his head to rest his knuckles lightly over Sam's keelbone.

Sam takes another deep breath, doesn't let himself get distracted by Steve's solid warmth all down his body, and asks as lightly as he can, "Bathhouses, huh? You run a lot of missions there, need to clean up after?" 

Steve's eyes unfocus, looking inside his own head, and he frowns a little, just enough to plump out his juicy bottom lip. But Sam doesn't bite, he waits and lets Steve talk. "Not really, no. After I got this --" with the familiar little wave to indicate his body, his transformation, his new role, "there wasn't much time, there were security concerns, and I had Bucky and Peggy, I didn't really need much more."

"Much," Sam echoes meaningfully, and Steve glances at him, eyes crystal clear.

" _A couple_ ," he doesn't clarify, smile tilting wide. "But I had most of that kinda fun when I was a skinny little nobody." Sam lets his eyebrows lift, widening his eyes encouragingly; Steve still doesn't talk all that often about his life before Captain America, before his time in the war. "Me and Bucky, apart and together, two pretty teenage boys loose in New York City." Steve's voice trails low, so Sam hums inquiringly; Steve looks up at him, but his eyes widen as his smile softens and fades, simultaneously seeing Sam and a memory.

Which implies a story in itself. "Who was he?" Sam asks, and it's probably playing dirty to use that kind of soft leading tone, but he's gotta know.

"A Corporal," Steve says slowly, lifting his fingers gently to Sam's lips. "Looked a lot like you."

"Guess you have a type after all," Sam says lightly, feeling Steve's fingertips on his bottom lip, Steve's intent gaze.

"Smart mouthed brunettes with interesting scars and stories?" Steve nods, curling his big hand along Sam's cheek to wrap it behind his nape. "Yeah, I guess I do." Sam leans in almost before Steve tugs, and goddamn he feels so good to kiss, strong hand and soft lips. But he's got a story to tell, so Sam pulls away a little, settling on Steve's shoulder as he says, "I was down in Central Park...."

_*** **1942** *** _

Steve hadn't meant to go fishing that evening, but the light was so good, warm and golden in the summer afternoon, luring him to stay out sketching in the park until the shadows welled up around him. He looked up to find the crowd shifted from kids and families to couples of all sorts and hordes of servicemen in groups and singles, noisy and cheerful and looking for a good time. The air was just starting to crackle with possibility, soon the couples would start necking and bushes start shaking, but the flip side of the permissive darkness was the cover it gave some troublemakers to slink from their holes and go hunting. Steve didn't need his evening wrecked by one of those.

Packing up his sketchbook and pencils, he stood and turned towards the nearest subway stop, but his gaze snagged on a dark-skinned young soldier sitting alone on a bench, a corporal by his sleeve, his face upturned towards the deepening sky. A very nice face too, high cheekbones and big bright eyes and a thin dapper mustache setting off beestung lips, a strong neck leading into broad shoulders Steve would love to draw, or maybe grab onto.

Steve stared, stopped in his tracks, and the corporal looked down from the sky and caught him at it. Those big eyes widened a little, taking Steve in, that calm smile broadened to a grin, shining brilliantly against his deep sienna skin as he patted the bench beside him. Steve tried to make himself actually think past his first impulse, but beyond just having a nice face, the handsome corporal wore it amiably, open and friendly, no hint of mockery in his smile.

So Steve went over and sat down, tucked his art gear beneath his arm and held out a hand. "Good evening, sir, I'm Steve Rogers."

The reply was, "Corporal Harris," and a warm grip that enfolded his hand without crushing it. "Coleman to my friends." He was even more handsome up close, long eyelashes and corded throat and lush lips in a sideways smile, and Steve already didn't want to let go. "Lovely evening, isn't it?"

Making himself pull his hand back, Steve took a deep breath of cool evening air and tried to actually think it over a moment. Still, maybe it was his better instincts and maybe just his baser, but he realized he'd already made up his mind. So he nodded, saying, "Yeah, Coleman, it is," and traded smile for smile.

*** v *** 

"Welcome to our humble home," Steve said grandly as he opened the door, listening to Coleman chuckle. Tugging on the front light, he added a hopeful, "Bucky?" He trusted Coleman, probably more than he should already, but every word and smile on their trip home chipped away at his already insufficient suspicion. On the other hand, Steve'd met mooks with amiable faces, Coleman had eight inches and at least sixty pounds on him, and he _was_ born and raised in Brooklyn. "Hey, Buck?"

"Hold your horses--" Bucky launched through the bedroom doorway, barefoot with his shirt unbuttoned past his breastbone, sleeves rolled up, hair curling out of its Brylcreem, and stopped short at the sight of their guest. He looked good, firming up his parted lips into a friendly smile, flicking his gaze down and up Coleman's neat frame, shooting Steve a sultry-eyed knowing look that heated his cheeks and made him scowl. But then, Bucky always looked good. "Hello, Corporal," Bucky said smoothly, extending a hand. 

"Hello, my host," Coleman echoed as they shook hands. "Corporal Harris. Coleman to my friends."

"Well, then!" Bucky pulled his hand back into a crisp salute. "Private First Class Barnes, Bucky off the clock." He winked, and Steve groaned a little. "And on the --"

"THIS," Steve said loudly over Bucky's lewd drollery, "is my best friend, roommate, and lifelong trouble. Bucky, I met Coleman in Central Park, he needs a place to stay the night and we've got the space. That okay?"

"If it's not too much bother," Coleman added, and Bucky's eyes widened; Steve looked over to see Coleman doing a perfect puppy dog face, and Bucky, no stranger to using big eyes to advantage, burst out laughing.

"More than okay," Bucky assured them both between chuckles, patting their shoulders, looping his arm around Steve's neck and jerking him tight against his side, just right. Steve let his head bounce against Bucky's chest and smiled a little, looking through his lashes at Coleman's fond grin as he watched them being ridiculous. "C'mon," Bucky added, tugging Steve towards the kitchen as Coleman followed, "let's see what supper we can toss together."

*** v *** 

"So here's the bathroom," Steve said, winding up his belated nickel tour of the place. "Unfortunately the shower head's busted, but the tub's clean and this building's good about hot water."

"A bath would be heavenly," Coleman sighed, "if I could borrow a hanger and a towel?" Steve nodded and ducked into the bedroom. Bucky sat on his mattress bed, reading the _Post_ and smirking; Steve ostentatiously ignored him, raided the closet, and went back out to knock on the bathroom door.

"Come in, come in," Coleman called, and Steve found him already down to shorts and undershirt. Even peeling off his socks, he stood poised as a figure from an anatomy book, every muscle gracefully defined. For the second time that evening he caught Steve looking, and grinned at his blush like it was a private joke between them, something they were both in on.

Steve squared his shoulders and shut his eyes, making himself say, "So, um, can I get you anything else?"

"Some company?" made Steve's eyes fly open. Coleman's were deep and velvety as the summer night sky. "Sit and talk to me a bit. Go get your drawing book if the wet won't hurt it."

"I-- yeah, yeah, of course." Steve plunked down on the tub's edge, narrow under his scantily upholstered ass, but the view as Coleman stripped off his underclothes and tossed them into the tub, smiled dazzlingly at Steve and climbed in, all more than made up for it. After a few moments of blinking and gaping, Steve turned on the tap, adjusting it to run hot, and Coleman sighed that deep happy sigh of his and leaned back, draping his arms on the tub's edges. He slid the near arm up around Steve's waist, gently curving a hand around his thigh.

"So," Coleman said, quiet but clear over the crash of rushing water, "let me ask you something?"

"Sure, anything." His scent rose with the steam, thick and heady, and Steve wanted to open his mouth wide, stick his tongue out, taste as well as smell him.

"Your fellow Barnes, he's got bright eyes and a friendly manner." Steve nodded, because it was wonderfully true, and swallowed the little cold lump of disappointment. "And I noticed you've got two beds but the small one's all over clothes. Don't sleep in it much, huh?" Steve shook his head, feeling his eyebrows lift. "So, I'm happy to bunk on the couch, I'm grateful you took me in. But I wouldn't mind seeing if I could fit in the big bed with you two, if you'll have me."

"Both of us?" fell out of Steve's mouth before he could think twice, and Coleman's eyebrows pulled together as he reached across his broad chest to cup Steve's chin. 

"If you're into that kind of thing," he said, an inviting little edge to his soft smile, his eyes bottomlessly dark. "Or tell me to cool my jets and we'll forget all about it."

Steve opened his mouth, and shut it, and leaned down to kiss Coleman instead of trying to talk. Coleman smiled under his lips, gripping him at shoulder and waist to keep him from falling in, and kissed him sweetly back, as tenderly as his lush mouth had promised, his banked strength just palpable enough to make Steve's head spin like the best liquor.

When Steve started sliding towards the water, Coleman caught him and pushed him gently back, just an inch or three. "So that's how it is," he murmured gently over Steve's gasping mouth. "Your fella Bucky said that's how you'd say yes."

Steve blinked, and found no mocking in Coleman's teasing smile. "He said so? When'd you two even talk?"

"Here and there," Coleman told him, between pillowy little kisses. "When you went for your sketchbooks, when you hit the head. Enough to know this isn't your first go round, you two." 

Coleman's eyes crinkled as Steve blushed harder and hotter. "Maybe it'll be the best," he managed to come up with, pushing in until their lips met again; Coleman slipped his sleek muscular tongue into the next kiss, tangling with Steve's, making him quiver till a moan shook loose.

"God damn," Coleman muttered reverently, and kissed Steve once more, quick and hard enough to tingle, before pushing him back with straight arms. "All right, you sweet thing, all right. I need to scrub up, not pull you in here with me." Not that Steve would exactly mind, and though he was still a little too kiss-stunned to speak he tried to say as much with his face. Coleman grinned, broad and bright, and kissed Steve between his eyes. "Go on, then, go get ready, I'll be out soon enough."

Coleman and Bucky had talked, everything was falling into place. "We'll be waiting," Steve said, wobbling to his feet and pulling himself away, and left Coleman to his bath. 

Stepping back into the bedroom he found Bucky sitting in the exact same spot, reading the same copy of the _Post_ , but now without a stitch on, his dick lying plump and heavy between his sturdy thighs. Glancing over the top of the magazine like he wished he had glasses to complete the effect, Bucky looked Steve up and down and asked, "Well, what took you so long?"

*** v *** 

Bucky's getting hard again, Steve thought, watching from between his fluttering eyelids, his cheek pillowed on the broad expanse of Bucky's thigh, his fingers dug into Bucky's hips for leverage as he pushed back groaning into Coleman's thrusts. "Blessed Christ," Coleman gasped over Steve's back, warm little prayers and profanities like kisses as he fucked Steve, setting a slightly different pace than Bucky's, just unfamiliar enough to knock him off kilter in the best of ways. Steve's hard again too, bobbing between his shaking thighs, but he didn't bother getting a hand on himself. Bucky's resilient skin and firm flesh filled his hands, his narrow waist and shoulder pressed into Coleman's fingers, the aching desire keeping him focused as Bucky's fingers combed through his hair and Coleman pounded up pleasure inside him. "Fuckin' hell, Steve, you feel--"

Coleman's voice broke into gravelly groans, and Steve gasped deeper, filling his lungs against the rolling press, and insisted, "How? How'm I doing?"

Bucky laughed overhead, his dick lifting heartbeat by heartbeat. "You know good and well," he murmured, lightly tugging Steve's hair. "Sweet as heaven and hot as hell." He'd whispered as much in Steve's ear while opening him up with long strong fingers, as Steve clung around his neck and stroked him off, as they reveled in Coleman enjoying the show. "Heh, Cole my man?"

Now Steve pressed his hot face to Bucky's thigh as Coleman laughed deep and breathy, rubbing his hand down Steve's spine to grip his hip. "Sweet Jesus, yeah," he agreed, words and lips brushing between Steve's shoulder blades as he tugged Steve even closer. "Oh my Lord my fucking Lord you are fine."

Steve nodded, grinning against Bucky's thigh, probably more pleased than he should be, but that was the point, wasn't it, giving as good as he got? Coleman tugged another half-inch and a sudden shift in alignment hit Steve deep and breathtaking, fireworks bursting behind his eyes. "Oh," he gasped, and again, "oh, no fucking slouch yourself, fuck--!" His voice broke high, sparks skittering through him, uncontrollable noises knocked out of him louder and louder. Bucky chuckled, petting his hair; Steve pushed open his eyes to glare and caught the bob of Bucky's dick, fully hard up against his belly, and had a better idea.

The first salt-velvety lick and Bucky gasped, the second shocked a gratifying, "holy fuck!" out of him, and Steve rolled his face up, shuddering with Coleman's thrusts, to grin up at Bucky's stunned look, his gleaming-wet outslung lip. "Steve," Bucky rasped, shifting his hand to Steve's cheek, "watch it, don't start something--"

" 'Course I can finish it," Steve puffed, butting Bucky's hand away, sucked in a deep breath against Coleman's running push, and gulped Bucky down to the root. Bucky growled over him, fingers clenching behind his head as Coleman moaned deep and low. Buck might worry if Steve can handle both at once, if he's got enough air, but he wouldn't say that in front of company, Coleman clearly liked the view, and Steve? Could do this, gladly, fucked full at both ends, pleasure eddying in his balls and belly and whirling in his head. 

Simultaneous harder thrusts, echoing off each other, and the surge of it tingled Steve's stretched lips and bounced his cock up against his belly. "God Almighty," Coleman moaned, his fingers digging sweet hot dents into Steve's shuddering flesh, "fuck that's something, look at you, taking us both."

Bucky's rushing breath broke on a little laugh, his fingers tugged gently on Steve's hair. "That's my Stevie," he murmured, making Steve's heart swell warmly as it pounded triple-time, "never does anything halfway," He stroked down along the outline of his dick under Steve's cheek, and when Steve moaned beneath the caress Bucky hissed to feel it and Coleman puffed a delighted laugh and nailed Steve hard enough to crackle. Steve groaned deep, sweaty hands braced on Bucky's hard-muscled thighs, and arched his spine into it, wiggling back for more, and Coleman moaned into his spine and gave it to him, thrust by smacking thrust, as Steve swallowed around Bucky's cockhead on each pullback and moaned each time Coleman filled him up again, harder and faster and more, more, more.

"God damn, sweet thing, damn," Coleman whimpered, soft lips parted behind his heart, and plunged in deep enough to feel in the back of Steve's throat, holding him tight as he started to come, crying out soft vowels on each pulse. Bucky hummed, but before he could get his next smart remark out Steve sucked harder, panting through his nose, and what fell out of Bucky's mouth was a deep open-throated noise, meshing with Coleman's melted-sounding "Oh, sweet Lord," just before he pulled out and slumped over, leaning warmly up against Steve's side, puffing hard enough to shift Steve like the tide.

"Stevie," Bucky murmured, and as Steve let go his thigh he looked up to his face, his hooded eyes and wide proud smile. He looked like he always did when Steve managed something no one thought he could, when he was the only one who hadn't tried to talk Steve out of trying. "Look at you," Bucky breathed, his dick hot and heavy on Steve's tongue as Coleman puffed happily and gripped Steve's outstretched hand, pulling it to his chest. "You got Coleman off, I'm not gonna last. You're amazing. I think --" Bucky's eyebrows tilted down over his deep sparkling eyes, and now he looked like he did when he set Steve a dare no one thought he could do except the two of them. "Harris, lend me a hand?" Steve's mouth was too full and too busy to smile, but he did his best with his eyebrows, and watched Bucky pant into a wide grin.

"Oh, mercy, Barnes, mercy, soon as I can move --" Coleman pressed his plush mouth to Steve's hip, and Steve shivered helplessly, moaning around Bucky's cock, which made Bucky toss his head back and moan too. "I'll do you one better," he rumbled into Steve's thigh, both big hands meeting around Steve's waist a moment before he bodily lifted Steve right up and forward, rocking him onto Bucky. Gulping around Buck's cockhead, Steve couldn't help an indignant too-high muffled yell, and Bucky whimpered into a laugh above him as Coleman chuckled, shifting over below him. 

Just before Steve would've kicked, Coleman put him back down, right on his face, closing his soft hot mouth around Steve's cock, sliding his tongue from the head all the way down to the root. Steve's next helpless noise was a guttural moan, the back of his throat fluttering against Bucky's cockhead as his nudged Coleman's. "Damn, Goddamn," Bucky murmured, clutching and kneading at Steve's shoulders. "Good thinking, sir!" Coleman laughed again around Steve, tingling into him, one broad hand curling up over his scant asscheek. Two long fingers slid into him, bonier and bendier and more probing than the firm solidity of a cock, but they felt good, felt just fine, and Steve squeezed around them, quivering under the warm rippling suction around his dick, and doubled his own efforts to bring Bucky off.

"Steve," Bucky crooned through the wet slick noises, both hands cradling Steve's head, wrists brushing his cheekbones as he hollowed his cheeks, "you're so good, you're so damn good, come on, let Coleman have it --" 

Steve flicked a glare upwards, and found Bucky laughing and moaning in equal measure, shining a delighted openmouthed smile down on him. Like he didn't already know it was a race, his whole body alight all over as Coleman put in an exceptional effort to slurp his brain out through his dick, but now Steve was damned if he'd come before Bucky did. With a last lavish lick all round under the head, until Bucky shuddered and thunked his skull back against the wall, Steve dragged in a deep salty breath and pushed down further, where Bucky loved it best and worried most, his lips rasped by redolent wet curls as he swallowed around Bucky's cockhead again and again, his lungs aching already in protest..

Bucky groaned, pushing back gently on Steve's head; Coleman caught his shakes and patted his hip, tongue caressing him in a fascinating rhythm. Steve trembled between fullness at both ends, Coleman's fingers pressing steadily inside him and Bucky submerged in his throat, between slick wet pleasure and rising dizzy airlessness, all of it hauling him towards the edge, but not yet, not yet. He barely felt the fingernails he pressed into his palm as he gulped desperately around Bucky and Bucky thumped his head against the wall, fingers tightening on Steve's temples.

Steve won, but it was almost a photo finish. Bucky came with a stuttering moan and Steve swallowed, choked, pulled off and hauled in a big sweet breath and came himself, Bucky's cock still jerking against his cheek and lips as he whimpered through it, Coleman's clever mouth sucking him dry. "Oh Jesus _Steve_ ," Bucky puffed, wiping uselessly at Steve's smeared face, pretty much just getting it all over his hand without cleaning anything up. 

Coleman pulled off too, smacking his lips, kissed Steve's thigh and sat up and laughed, hoarse and cheerful, at both of them. With them. "Look at you two," he murmured warmly over the sound of cloth swishing. "Need a towel?" Bucky groaned affirmatively and Steve hoisted a flopping hand into the air for Coleman to toss it onto. 

Still pillowed on Bucky's solid thigh, Steve scrubbed his cheek and ear, wiped a few drops out of his hair as best he could, and pressed the towel into Bucky's hand as he rolled and pushed himself up to sitting, leaning back on Bucky's chest. "My hair's all stuck together," he complained overhead, and Bucky shrugged carelessly, smiled down at him and leaned in to smack a kiss onto his mouth.

"Let me fluff it up," Coleman said, reaching forward, and Steve inclined his head graciously and allowed the ruffle. Scooting closer, Coleman leaned in for a kiss, and Steve wrapped his hand behind Coleman's strong neck and took it eagerly, feeling the pleasure of it down to his belly, to his toes, his drained balls throbbing just a little, maybe a next round...?

Coleman pulled his mouth from Steve's, pressing a plush smile between his eyes, and leaned up to kiss Bucky's parted red lips as Steve rolled his heavy head back and watched and considered. They looked just gorgeous, lip to lip and cheek to cheek, lashes fluttering as they moaned languidly into each other, but warm heaviness was sinking into Steve's bones, he knew he'd crash soon. If they were still up he'd push through, hide his yawns in the pillow and give it his best, but Bucky felt lax behind him, hands draped loosely on Steve's thighs.

And when Coleman pulled back from Bucky he yawned, eyes sparkling above his hand. "Don't you two know how to show a fellow a good time," he murmured, lying down with his back to the wall, smiling up at them.

"Well, you're such an excellent fella," Bucky said, shifting one way. Steve rolled the other, towards Coleman; his damp bangs slid into his eyes and he reached to push them back, but Coleman reached first, brushing long fingers across his forehead and down through his hair, light and warm. 

It wasn't often that Steve got to feel so good in his subpar body, and as he relaxed onto Coleman's muscular chest he murmured, "I'm glad you came back with me."

"So am I," Coleman responded, petting his ear before taking his hand away to reach over. Steve knew without looking what Bucky was handing Coleman, one of the beers he'd set by the bed; he watched Coleman's throat bob as he upended the bottle, and thought about sketching him while the sight was still fresh, and took the bottle when offered to finish it off, the crisp bubbly beer and the slick rounded glass wet from both their mouths. 

"Think I'm crashing," Bucky murmured, switching off the lamp. "That okay with you two?" He tucked himself to Steve's back, pushing a familiar long thick thigh between Steve's.

Coleman's smile flashed in the dimness. "Yeah, time for some shut-eye. Goodnight, boys."

Bucky mumbled something drowsily polite back. Steve thought of trying to say something, but just pressed his forehead to Coleman's breastbone and his back into Bucky's chest as he closed his eyes.

*** v *** 

"And that," Steve finishes, sweet and smug with his hand pulling long slow strokes on Sam's dick, "was the first time I took it at both ends. Or, what's the newfangled term?" Sam can't help gasping into a laugh. "Double penetration?"

"All right, all right." Sam bats at Steve's chest, then pretty much just feels up his bosom as Steve smirks at him. "And damn, Rogers, goddamn. When you do a thing you _do a thing_."

Steve shrugs, broad shoulder flexing, finger trailing exquisite pressure under Sam's cockhead till he shivers. "I haven't even told you about my personal best," Steve goes on, looking down, maybe at his hand, maybe just into his memories. "Fifteen, if we count both Buck's turns." He says it so airily it takes Sam's breath away in an incredulous, delighted little laugh. "I didn't want to stop at thirteen, after all. But that's another story." 

He looks up at Sam as he says it, eyebrow cocked in pure mischief, and Sam physically can't resist grabbing his shoulder and kissing him. "Sweet Jesus, all right, all right," Sam murmurs against Steve's soft full lips, pressed chest to broad thick-muscled chest. "How do I compete with such a glorious legacy of fucking?"

Steve's eyes go wide, limitless blue as the sky, and Sam may never breathe again, may die of deoxygenation and joy. "By being here," Steve tells him, winding his free arm around Sam's waist to pull him closer yet, "and gorgeous, and mine." It's Steve's turn to kiss Sam hard and deep, the firm rings of his fingers tightening perfectly, and Sam could just sink into it, into Steve, overwhelmingly present and utterly beautiful.

But one tiny wriggle of curiosity prods him. "I'm here, baby," Sam murmurs between kisses, "I'm yours, all for you. But you never answered my question, you know." Steve hums negligently, clearly more intent on Sam's mouth than his words, and damn that's flattering, but. "And you're not getting off the hook that easy." Steve flicks his eyes up to Sam's, even as he twists his wrist until Sam shudders all over, which is so not fair. "Nngh, you. If we invited a third? Who'd you want?"

Steve considers, maddeningly calmly. And then he smiles, small and lush and breathtaking. "Make me come again and I'll tell you." He hitches his knees up, settling Sam into the cradle of his thighs.

"Ooh, is that an order?" Sam twists a little, the distance and angle just that bit closer to familiar, as Steve pushes long powerful thighs up alongside his ribs.

"It's a promise," Steve takes his hand off Sam's cock, letting Sam drive, and cups his cheek with thet warm damp palm. Sam catches Steve's thumb between his lips, licking his own sweet salt off textured callouses, as he nudges his way back into the encompassing heat of Steve's body and watches Steve's eyelids shudder as he smiles.

Coda

The good news was, they'd successfully destroyed the target, picked off the surviving squids, and found a sheltering ledge. The bad news was, Steve had two bullets in his thigh, the ledge barely sat five, they needed evac hours ago, and the swirling wind carried steadily thickening flurries of snowflakes. Five of the Howlers sat jammed shoulder-to-shoulder under the shelter, Steve hunched in Bucky's lap, and Dugan bluffly stood watch, puffing one of his foul cigars.

When the hour was up Steve planned to try again at volunteering for the next watch, mostly so Bucky would frown at him, call him a dumbass, and pull him in tighter against his chest. The bullet wounds throbbed dully under the tight cloth Jones had bound around Steve's thigh, but it was nothing he couldn't stand. His guys shivering on the other hand...

...an olive-drab hat poked over the hillside, followed by a smiling deep-brown face, one Steve thought he recognized. "Captain Rogers!" the lieutenant called, waving as two more soldiers followed him over the ridge. "Your chariot awaits!" It wasn't just his striking handsomeness, pencil-line mustache, or the charming gap between his teeth. 

Steve looked, and felt Bucky's deep breath of recognition, and knew. "Lieutenant Harris!" he called back. "You're a sight for sore eyes!" Harris's eyes widened at being addressed by name, his guys glancing at each other, but their fast climb didn't slacken. 

Even through his uniform Steve could feel Bucky's smirk against his shoulder, and he saw the exact moment when Harris recognized _them_ , big eyes going round as he glanced from Steve to Bucky and back again. "Merciful Christ, Steve Rogers, is that you?" Harris -- Coleman -- gasped as he bent down. "Barnes, you made Sergeant?"

By now everyone was staring. "You know this guy?" DumDum inquired, adding a belated "Sir," in Lieutenant Harris's direction. 

"Once upon a New York evening," Bucky supplied, as Coleman grasped Steve's upraised hand, glanced down his new body, and let out a low whistle. 

"What in God's creation happened to you?" he asked as he and Bucky heaved Steve onto one foot. 

"Got shot," Steve supplied, which made Coleman harrumph as he reached across Steve's back to thump Bucky's, and Bucky grinned at him past Steve's ear.

" _Before that_ ," he demanded as they started down the hillside.

"He joined the Army," Bucky said, dry as a dusty bone, and Steve smiled as he watched Coleman laugh all the way down to their ride.


End file.
